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“Jealous, Tory?”
“No,” I muttered, taking another drink. Damn, my glass was empty again. I waved the bartender over. “Keep them coming,” I told her.
“She’s a friend.”
“A friend with bleach blonde hair and a neckline down to her stomach?” I asked, the alcohol in my system making my mouth say stupid things.
Jasper’s eyes dropped to my own cleavage which was fairly emphasised in this dress.
“An ex-partner,” he admitted.
“Before me or during?”
His eyes flashed up to mine. “Before, long before. You think I’d cheat on you?”
“No, I just wondered. It would explain... stuff.”
“Stuff?”
I sighed. In for the penny, in for the pound. “Why you never wanted to... I mean, we’d been going out for a while, Jasper, and you were thinking of proposing, but you never touched me.”
“Tory...” He looked into his glass and knocked the rest back.
“I mean, it’s fine. I get it. We were a good match on paper, and if you didn’t find me attractive, then that’s okay. I just thought maybe you were getting what you needed elsewhere.” The third cocktail went down in one go. As I set my glass back on the bar, I noticed my hand was shaking. I guessed ten months of being in a relationship where he’d constantly rejected me had upset me more than I thought. Burying one’s feelings was the natural born talent of the upper class. Of course, alcohol cut straight through that and made you say things you probably shouldn’t. I could already feel my brain fuzzing over, and I was sure Jasper was slightly slurring his words also. He reached out and took my hand.
“You thought I didn’t find you attractive?”
I snatched my hand back. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend anymore. “It was really obvious, Jasper. You could rarely bring yourself to kiss me, and even when you did, you always stopped it from going further. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what the problem was. You didn’t want me.”
His mouth dropped open. “Didn’t want you? Are you crazy? Have you looked in a mirror? Your body would drive a priest to distraction.”
I blushed, thinking of my own priests that had definitely done some rather unholy things to me.“So what was it then?” I asked. “Were you just operating under the whole no sex before marriage thing? Because I have to tell you, Jasper, I know you fucked around before me, so that isn’t cutting it.”
His gaze dropped from mine and he downed his brandy. “It... doesn’t matter. Look, I just wanted to come tonight and say, you know, no hard feelings. That’s all.”
“That is not all,” I retorted, slamming my empty glass back down on the bar. I saw an elderly couple at a front table glance in our direction, but I ignored them.
Jasper set his glass down carefully. “I’m sorry, Tory. I don’t want you to feel bad, that’s all. And I knew you might be. I know you and... well, you were right. We’d never have been good together. You deserve better.” He slid off the stool and got out his wallet, laying several twenties down on the bar.
“I deserve better? I’m the bitch who humiliated you. You’re the good guy here.” I jumped down from the bar stool, only swaying a little bit.
He glanced down at me, then reached out to touch my face. “No. I’m not a good guy, Tory. And sooner or later, you’d have found that out. It’s best this way. Goodbye.”
I stared as he turned and walked away from me, confusion rolling through me. I watched him leave the bar and leaned back against the stool. His words ran through me, and I searched for some kind of explanation for them. Something just didn’t sit right. I’d known Jasper my whole life, and there wasn’t a bad bone in his body. I mean, yeah, he’d been a bit of a playboy, but most rich, privileged kids played around a little, so it wouldn’t be that. My mind was going crazy, and I found myself feeling extremely pissed off. He’d just walked off and left me hanging. I mean, I was a fucking goddess. Okay, he didn’t know that, but I didn’t give a shit. And neither did the vodka.
“Fuck this for a box of monkeys. I want answers.”
Nine
JASPER
Itookasipfrom the glass of brandy I’d poured when I reached my suite. It wasn’t quite as good as the vintage in the bar, but it must have been my seventh or eighth that night, and I couldn’t really give a shit. I just wanted to drink myself into a deep, dreamless oblivion. The windows in the suite reached from floor to ceiling, giving me an unobstructed view of the city. I looked out over the scattered tiny lights, wondering what would happen if I just walked out onto that balcony and stepped off the edge...
My rather melancholy thoughts were disturbed by a sudden hammering at the door. I frowned and moved towards it, intending to look through the spyhole to see who it was. I was not in the mood for some ridiculous drunk person. As I reached the door, I heard a deep voice say, “My lady.”
It was quickly followed by a familiar voice saying, “Can it, fluff ball. Go catch a mouse.”
The banging began again, and she shouted through the door. “Jasper, open the fucking door, or I swear to God...”
